


What's Meant to Be

by montecarlogirl87



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlogirl87/pseuds/montecarlogirl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if you actually listened to your heart and realized you were in love with your best friend? But what if it was too late? -- I wrote this fresh out of high school, when I was all angsty and hormonal. It happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Meant to Be

“Vroom, vroom, VROOM!”  
  
The two young boys pushed their little toy cars around the cement sidewalk.  
  
The blonde haired boy squealed, imitating tires and crashed into the metal car in the hand of the second boy.  
  
“Oh great,” he whined.  
  
The second boy looked up to see a girl around their age walking down the sidewalk.

“Not  _her_ ,” the blonde groaned.  
  
“Hey guys, whatchya doing?”  
  
They ignored her and continued pushing their cars around, although without their previous sound effects.  
  
She squatted down in front of them. “Can I play?”  
  
“No,” the blonde spat.  
  
She glared at him, her brow furrowing. “Why not?”  
  
“Because we don’t want you to. Besides, cars are for boys,” he said snobbishly.  
  
It was almost comical the way her little eyebrow arched above her glowing blue eyes. She reached down to grab a shiny red car just to have her hand slapped, rather hard, by the other boy, which up until this point had been silent. She gasped more in shock than in pain and pinned him with her eyes.  
  
“Go away.”  
  
Her mouth clicked shut and she squinted her eyes in anger before out of nowhere her six-year-old fist went careening into his six-year-old nose.  
  
He fell back onto the concrete, blood pouring from his nose and tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed and made a beeline for home, while she stomped off down the block with a grin on her face.

* * *

 

Six years later their animosity for each other hadn’t changed and thanks to that wonderful bitch named fate they happened to both have the same seventh grade English class.

_Great._

  
And to make matters worse, the teacher gave them assigned seats right next to each other.  
  
Halfway into the semester, she happened to glance over at him during a particularly hard Shakespeare test. He was worrying his lip something fierce and it was clear he was not doing very well.  
  
She cleared her throat and moved her arm, giving him a crystal clear shot of the circles around her multiple-choice answers.  
  
He looked at her utterly confused. She just arched her brow like she had done so many years ago and smirked at him before returning to a sketch she was drawing in her notebook.  
  
He looked up at the teacher who was absorbed in grading papers and then back to her test that she had slid over to the side of her desk.  
  
He half wondered if it was a trap. He wouldn’t put it past her to set him up to fail.  
  
But then again, what did he have to lose? He didn’t know any of the answers anyway.  
  
He quickly copied her marks before the bell rang.  
  
His brow furrowed when she hesitated getting up, looking over at his paper to make sure he was done copying before she stood up, gathered her things and left.  
  
He caught up with her in the hallway, awkwardly walking beside her in silence and wondering what to say.  
  
 _Why are you helping me? I thought you hated me? Did you just give me all the wrong answers?_  
  
“Umm, thanks for…back there.”  
  
 _Real smooth._  
  
She smiled and turned into the art classroom as the late bell rang.   
  
“No problem,” she said as she disappeared.

* * *

 

A week later he showed up to Mrs. Freeman’s English class with a cast from his hand to his shoulder, courtesy of a pretty nasty fall during Pop Warner football practice. 

  
To add insult to injury today’s assignment included a five paragraph essay and it just so happened his injured arm was also the hand he wrote with.  
  
After struggling for about ten minutes and trying to read his own scribbles and failing miserably he gave up, accepting his fate to fail.  
  
She had already finished her own essay and went up to turn it in.  
  
He groaned in defeat and put his head down on his desk. He looked up to see her bent over the teacher’s desk.  
  
 _Damn, look at those jeans…when the hell had she filled out like that?_  
  
He was snapped out of his completely random train of thought when the teacher glanced over at him with a smile and then looked back at her and nodded with another smile.  
  
He stared in confusion as she came back to her desk, pushing it over next to his without a word and hopped over the support bar between the chair and the desk and took her seat.  
  
Clicking her pen open, she snatched his paper from under his plaster-encased arm.  
  
“What are you doing?” he whispered.  
  
“Mrs. Freeman said I could help you do your work, since you can’t exactly write right now,” she said, motioning to his arm.  
  
He looked down at it as if he had never seen it before in his life and then looked back at her.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because I asked,” she said, as if it was obvious, as she wrote his name at the top the loose-leaf paper.  
  
 _Trey Vander._  
  
She turned to look at him. “You gonna tell me what to write or not?” she grinned.  
  
They’d been best friends ever since.

* * *

 

***~*4 Years Later*~***

  
The digital lights ticked off the seconds as number 33 crossed into the end zone scoring the winning touchdown for the Lyman Greyhounds.  
  
The local firefighters blared the siren on the truck behind the scoreboard as the home team celebrated their victory.  
  
After the fans had somewhat thinned out, heading off in their respective ways to go party and celebrate the win, she headed over to where the players finally came off the field.  
  
“Hey Casey!” he yelled, running over to her, helmet in hand.  
  
He launched herself at him and he caught her easily, crushing her in a bear hug,  
  
He dropped her to her feet, picking at his number 33 jersey. “You don’t want to hug me, I’m all nasty and sweaty.”  
  
“Since when has that stopped me?” she grinned, accompanied with her trademark eyebrow arch.  
  
He laughed as some of his fellow teammates passed behind him, slapping him on the back in congrats.  
  
“Whaddya say to some steaks and beer at my place? My parents are outta town this week.”  
  
“Hey Trey!”  
  
Casey rolled her eyes as the skinny little blonde haired bimbo came running over to them and kissed Trey.  
  
Did she forget to mention the bimbo was his girlfriend?   
  
Her bad.  
  
“Hi Casey,” she practically hissed. She had never hidden the fact that she hated that her boyfriend’s best friend was a girl.  
  
“Hi Lindsey,” she hissed right back.  
  
“Come on babe, go get changed so we can go to CiCi’s pizza with the team,” Lindsey said, sickly sweet, patting the pads under his jersey.  
  
He looked up at Casey in apology.  
  
She cut him off before he could say anything, “Don’t worry hun, my parents are gone all week, we can catch up later,” she said, biting back a grin at the sudden daggers that were being glared at her. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before pulling her keys out of her pocket and heading for the parking lot.  
  
The minute her back was turned she grinned.  
  
Her friend Teresa came out of the restroom just in time.  
  
“What the hell did you do this time?”  
  
“What?” she gasped, feigning innocence. “Whatever do you mean? I did nothing!”  
  
Teresa gave her a look and turned around to see Lindsey waiting outside the locker room, still glaring at Casey.  
  
“Must you piss that girl off? I know you hate her, but Trey does care for her…although god only knows why.”  
  
Casey smiled and got in her car.

* * *

 

Halfway into their senior year Lindsey broke up with Trey. For one of his friends on the football team no less.

  
He crossed the large concrete courtyard and over to Casey who was sitting on one of the benches scattered around the campus.  
  
He sat down and sighed, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  
  
“Sorry babe.”  
  
He smirked, “Ah, she wasn’t that great anyways.”  
  
“Preaching to the choir,” Casey smiled.  
  
He rolled his eyes and she smiled, going back to the sketchpad she had on her lap.  
  
“Seriously though Trey, despite me hating her, I know you didn’t…”  
  
“I know, I know…I’m fine. I promise,” he said, giving her a smile.  
  
“You did tell me she was trouble,” he mumbled.  
  
“Yeah I did, does that mean you’re actually gonna listen to me next time?”  
  
He smiled again and looked over at what she was drawing. A grin broke out over his face when he saw his own profile in black and white.  
  
“Geez, Case, I know you love me and all, but damn.”  
  
“Shut up you pig,” she laughed, punching his shoulder. “Ms. Smith practically drooled over you the other day, trust me, I’ll get an A on this assignment,” she winked.  
  
Trey just rolled his eyes and looked out over the courtyard.  
  
“Maybe I should go flirt with that Ashley chick.”  
  
Casey leaned over, acting like she was looking intently at the aforementioned girl.  
  
“Nah man, trust me, I’ve seen it…it ain't pretty.”  
  
He looked at her, confusion and humor etched across his face. “You’ve seen it?”  
  
She shrugged nonchalantly, “I had weight lifting with her last semester.”  
  
He shook his head and laughed as the bell rang for the end of lunch.  
  
She closed her sketchpad and replaced it in her bag.  
  
“Why don’t you come over tonight, we could rent a movie, hook up the PlayStation, grill out, whaddya say?”  
  
He bit his lip and nodded, “Thanks hun, I’ll be there after practice.”  
  
“Cool,” she said, getting up, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek before heading off to class.

* * *

 

She had just said goodbye to Teresa and was standing by her truck when she saw Trey headed towards her.

  
“Hey hun,” she smiled, climbing up on her hood. Her smile quickly faded when Trey didn’t return it.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Case,” he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. How the hell was he supposed to tell her?  
  
“What?” she asked scared.  
  
More awkward silence. He was afraid he had just swallowed his tongue.  
  
“Looks like you don’t have to save me the first dance at prom after all.”  
  
That wasn’t out of the blue or anything.  
  
“What?” This time is was more confused.  
  
He looked her in her eyes, afraid that his own were about to tear up.  
  
“I’m moving.”  
  
Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t hear any of the kids screaming in the parking lot. Didn’t see the bright yellow buses as they pulled away. Didn’t feel the sudden gust of wind that whipped through the landscaped trees. All she could do was listen to the pounding of her heartbeat in her head and stare at him in disbelief.  
  
“What?” she whispered, wincing when she realized just how broken and weak her own voice sounded.  
  
He sniffed and looked down at his boots. “I’m moving. I just found out today. My dad…my dad has an assignment.”  
  
He didn’t need to explain that to her, Casey had been his only friend his parents had ever let him tell about his dad being in the secret service.  
  
“We have to go with him. He’s not even allowed to tell us where we’re going,” he whispered, finally looking at her, trying in vain to hold back his emotions.  
  
“When?”  
  
She was crying now. Silently anyways. Tears streaking down her face and dropping onto her t-shirt. She didn’t try to stop them like she normally did. She was losing her best friend.  
  
“Monday.”  
  
She nodded, giving him a very forced smile and looked away, sniffling.  
  
“Case.”  
  
She looked back at him, her chin trembling.  
  
That’s all it took. He could never stand it when she cried. He looked away quickly, one last-ditch effort to control his own tears before he pulled her into a hug.  
  
“I’m so sorry.”  
  
She buried her face in his chest and cried, fingers wrapped in his jacket.

* * *

 

He threw his duffle bag forcefully into the trunk of his dad’s Town Car and clenched his jaw as his mom tried to comfort him.  
  
He slammed the trunk and walked away from her to go grab the last couple boxes for the moving van.   
  
He stopped when he heard the roar of off-roading tires coming down the road.  
  
Tires he knew all too well.  
  
He turned to see Casey’s black truck come speeding down the road and up onto the curb across the street before she jumped out, face already red from crying.  
  
“Case, what are you doing here?” he asked, hurrying over to her.  
  
“Oh thank god,” she said, “I was afraid I was gonna miss you,” she sniffled, grabbing onto his jacket.  
  
“A couple more minutes and you would have,” he said sadly, pulling her into a hug.  
  
She cried softly into his chest before pulling back.  
  
“I know this is  _really_  crappy timing…”  
  
God, she was crying harder now. He swallowed hard, trying to force himself not to react to her emotions.  
  
“Trey buddy! Time to go!” his dad hollered.  
  
He turned to look and then turned back to Casey, his heart thudding painfully in his chest, making him aware of the fact that this might be the last time he was ever gonna see her.  
  
“Shit, “ she hissed, sounding whinier than she wanted.  
  
“Case…”  
  
“I love you,” she choked, tugging on his jacket lapels a couple times before placing one hand flat against his chest.  
  
He sighed and his brow furrowed before he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her hard, his own tears mingling with hers.  
  
“Me too,” he whispered against her lips. “I think I always have.”  
  
She whimpered and kissed him again softly, her arms wrapping around his waist.  
  
His arms wrapped around her shoulders and head and held her as close as possible.  
  
He placed a kiss on her hair as his dad once again called for him.  
  
He heard the moving truck rumble to life behind him and he pulled back, holding her face in his hands and looking into her eyes.  
  
He leaned in and kissed her again before he finally turned away, feeling his heart breaking with each step that took him further away from her.  
  
She watched, leaning against her truck for support as he stared at her in the side mirror of the black Town Car as he drove out of her life.

* * *

 

***~*10 Years Later*~***

  
She woke up with a start. Gasping for the cold night air.  
  
She hadn’t had a dream about that day in years…okay, months.   
  
Damn that high school reunion invitation.  
  
She looked over at the man that was sprawled in bed next to her.   
  
Joe was a good guy, treated her right. But something was still missing. Although she would never admit to herself that she knew exactly what it was.  
  
He wasn’t  _him._

* * *

 

The smell of coffee brought her out from under the covers. She groaned as the harsh sunlight met her eyes.  
  
Teresa looked up from the coffee pot as Casey came stumbling into the kitchen.  
  
“Morning.”  
  
“Hey,” she said, sitting herself on one of the barstools at the counter.  
  
“Is Joe staying for breakfast?” she asked, handing Casey a mug of coffee.  
  
“Joe’s not here.”  
  
Teresa rolled her eyes.   
  
“What now?”  
  
“Nothing,” Casey cut out, walking over to the sofa and curling up staring out the window.  
  
“Bullshit. That boy’s been nothing but nice to you. Something must have happened for you to be all broody.”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“And I’m not broody.”  
  
Teresa smiled and walked over to sit across of Casey on the sofa.  
  
“So why’d you kick him out?”  
  
Casey shrugged, wishing she could change the subject. “I dunno, just…didn’t feel right anymore.”  
  
“None of the guys you been with have felt right. Come up with a new excuse already.”  
  
Casey glared, taking a sip of the hot black liquid.  
  
“I don’t know okay? I just…he’s not what I’m looking for.”  
  
“Well what the hell are you looking for? Casanova?”  
  
Casey grinned.  
  
Teresa sighed and took a sip from her coffee, still watching Casey.  
  
“You been thinking about him haven’t you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Liar.”  
  
“So.”  
  
Teresa rolled her eyes.  
  
“This ‘cause of that that reunion invitation we got?”  
  
She didn’t answer.  
  
“Case…”  
  
“He won't be there.”  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
“I called.”  
  
Teresa paused. “What?”  
  
“I called the student council that set it up. They don’t have an address for him. Therefore he got no invitation. Therefore he won't be there.”  
  
Teresa sighed. “Doesn’t mean you can’t go. Dance…drink…have a little fun for once. See the old campus.”  
  
“I can’t go back Teresa. Everything there reminds me of him. He was my best friend, he was…everything. It’d just be too hard. Besides you know I’d end up sitting at the bar all damn night and regretting it come morning.”  
  
Teresa bit her lip. “You’re really gonna make me go by myself?”  
  
“Don’t do that.”  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“Make me feel bad and guilt trip me into going.”  
  
“I’m not!”  
  
“Riiight.”  
  
“I’m so not,” she grinned.  
  
Casey rolled her eyes and took another sip of coffee.  
  
There were a few minutes of silence.  
  
“I’ll think about it. No promises.”  
  
Teresa smiled.

* * *

 

The cursor hovered over the search bar.  
  
After a moment of hesitation Lyman High School Reunion, scrolled across and the search button was pressed.  
  
Ten years can make you nostalgic.  
  
And ten years meant there was a reunion…he just had to find it.  
  
He did find it, on one of those classmate finder web pages. It was a week away, but by invitation only.  
  
He located the number for the alumni committee that set it up and pulled out his cell phone.  
  
If by some miracle she was there, he was going to be there too.

* * *

 

She had made polite small talk, said hello to the people she used to consider friends and then made a beeline for the bar.  
  
She hated being back here. Hated seeing these old faces. Hated listening to the old songs that they insisted on playing. Hell, they had even made a video, complete with football footage. His smiling face flashing across the screen is what sealed the deal and drove her to the barstool.  
  
Damn Teresa and her guilt trips.  
  
The hired bartender came over, wiping out a glass with his rag.  
  
“Grey Goose, straight.”  
  
He nodded and walked away to fill her request.  
  
A few minutes later she had already downed three. The burn in her throat and the heat that was slowly consuming her from the inside a welcome escape from this damn torture.  
  
She polished off the glass she had, wincing as the liquid fire went down her throat.   
  
Damn, it had been awhile since she had drunk this shit straight.  
  
The bartender smiled and headed back over, refilling the glass yet again.  
  
At least he had something to smile about; she thought dryly, he was getting paid. The only thing she was going to get out of this deal was a date with the toilet in the morning.  
  
Oh, she knew how to handle her liquor. Knew when to stop, but most of the time when it came to  _him_  she just didn’t give a shit.  
  
Some sappy love song that was popular when they were in high school slowly started blaring from the speakers and she groaned.  
  
Just fucking great.  
  
There goes that glass.  
  
“You still saving that dance for me?”

The rumble behind her made her eyes go wide.  
  
There was just no freaking way.  
  
She turned so abruptly she knocked the half drunk vodka off the bar and sent it crashing to the floor.  
  
“Oh my god…”  
  
“Hey Case.”  
  
That smile. That damn fucking smile.  
  
She launched herself at him in one big blur. He caught her easily just like he always had. Everything else melted in that moment.  
  
He finally pulled back, cupping her now tear stained face in his hands.  
  
“God, I’ve missed you babe.”  
  
She smiled, “Me too.”  
  
He grinned and leaned down to kiss her softly.   
  
“Come on,” he whispered. “I still owe you that dance from prom.”  
  
She laughed as he drug her out to the dance floor.   
  
They ended up hugging more than dancing.

Halfway through the song they were just standing in their own private spot on the dance floor holding each other as tight as they could. Half afraid that if they let go they would lose each other again.  
  
He pulled back when the song ended and smiled at her.  
  
She grinned and laughed too, tears still slowly trekking down her face. The emotions were just too strong to control.  
  
He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her off the dance floor and towards the door.

* * *

 

She laughed as he ducked under the bleachers.  
  
He tugged her hand and pulled her into him, sighing as his arms wrapped around her.  
  
“God Case…”  
  
“I know,” she whispered into his chest.  
  
He felt her shiver and quick shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.  
  
She blushed and he ran his fingertips over her cheek lightly before kissing her softly.  
  
She smiled and kissed him again, hard.  
  
He rested his forehead against hers when they finally broke.  
  
“I looked for you. You dropped off the map.”  
  
“Yeah,” she smiled sadly, “I had to get outta this town. It just wasn’t the same without you.”  
  
He smirked and kissed her again.  
  
He stared at her. She looked just like he remembered her. But at the same time she was so much more mature, more graceful, more beautiful.  
  
“I never stopped loving you,” he rumbled.  
  
She blushed again and dropped her head, “Me either,” she whispered, looking back up at him.  
  
He pulled her into his arms, never wanting to let her get farther than an arm’s length away from him again.  
  
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he whispered against her hair.  
  
She grinned and kissed him again, slow and deep.  
  
“Sounds good to me,” she smiled.

* * *

 

Wrapped in a thick blanket and curled up in each other’s arms, they laid in silence.  
  
Her back was pressed firmly against his chest. One arm was under her head, stretched out, fingers laced with hers; the other was wrapped firmly around her waist. There was no way he was letting her get away. Not again.  
  
She laughed.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I still can’t believe it,” she whispered.  
  
“Me either,” he smiled, kissing her cheek and burying his nose into her neck, resulting in a moan from her.  
  
He grinned and rolled away from her, walking over to his bag on the other side of the room and rummaging through it.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
He walked back over and laid down next to her again, holding up his prize.   
  
Between his fingers was his silver class ring, smooth garnet stone resting on top.  
  
He took her hand and slipped it on her finger.  
  
“Until I can get a proper band.”  
  
She stared at her finger and then shot her eyes back at him. Her mind sluggishly processing what he said and what he had meant.  
  
He just grinned as he literally watched the confusion, shock, awe and finally joy wash across her face.  
  
She smiled wide before pulling him into a bruising kiss.  
  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grinned.  
  
“That’s a hell yes,” she smiled right back.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually ended up adapting this into a Supernatural fic, if you'd rather read a Dean/OFC. :)


End file.
